


Sober

by Paige242



Category: Superman & Lois (TV 2021)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paige242/pseuds/Paige242
Summary: When their parents go out of town, Jon and Jordan partake in some typical teenage behaviour and face some atypical results.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Kent (Superman & Lois TV 2021) & Jordan Kent
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	Sober

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight's silly plot bunny. I hope you enjoy it!

It was just a regular Saturday night in Smallville.

Which meant that there was absolutely nothing to do.

Thankfully, in the seven months since they had moved there, the Kent boys had become pretty good at making their own fun.

And tonight, they hoped, was going to be particularly memorable. Their parents had decided to go for a little weekend getaway, leaving them alone in the farmhouse for the very first time. They’d promised not to throw a party (and they stood by that) but the twins had an entire night to themselves and they were determined to get into a bit of mischief.

There had been one thing in particular that they had both been hoping to try and this was the perfect opportunity.

As soon as their parents had left they’d walked into town and picked up the hefty supply of beer that one of Jon’s friends had managed to secure for them. Thankfully, Jordan had no trouble carting it home and they now found themselves seated at the kitchen table with their first chilled cans sitting in front of them. They were perfectly aware that, at fifteen, they were well under-age (and perfectly aware that mom and dad would not approve) but they’d spent so much time wondering and theorizing.

It was time to settle this once and for all.

“Alright,” Jordan said, picking up his drink and cracking open the lid, “bottoms up.”

Jon agreed with a smile as he followed along and the two brothers took their first deep swig in unison.

“Well, it tastes terrible,” Jordan noted, screwing up his face in disgust. “That is scientific conclusion number one.” He pretended to take notes on the small pad of paper they had set out.

The other teen laughed, “beggars can’t be choosers. This is the only kind they sell where Nick works.” He’d tried a couple of other beers before, at a few unsupervised parties he’d attended. This definitely wasn’t premium stuff but it would get the job done.

They both took another deep drink. It seemed slightly less terrible the second time but Jordan muttered something about mixing in some orange juice.

“No way, no juice,” Jon declared, determined to give their elicit activity as much legitimacy as possible. “This is for science! Straight beers, until we feel something. That’s the deal.”

That was exactly what they had agreed upon when they had come up with this plan. Unlike most teenagers, the Kent boys weren’t focused on actually getting drunk. They wanted to know if it was even possible for them. All of this had started percolating a couple of months ago when their dad had casually mentioned his inability to get drunk.

 _“Alcohol just doesn’t seem to have any effect on me,”_ he’d shrugged, clearly not thinking much of it.

But the boys had exchanged a surprised look and, later that night, added it to their list of experiments to try on themselves. They’d been doing this for a while now— listening, taking notes, and testing. Clark had been pretty open to sharing information with them since the big reveal but it had quickly become clear that the man didn’t really have a ton of answers when it came to their unique situations. Dad knew about Kryptonians. And everyone knew about humans.

But no one in the history of the universe had ever studied kryptonian-human hybrids. They were the only two in existence, as far as they knew. And since they weren’t keen on offering themselves up to government scientists this felt like the only option, as amateur as it was. 

So far, they’d examined their blood under a microscope (in short—it did _not_ look normal), tested Jordan’s ability to throw and punch various objects, explored the effects of the sun on their injuries (both had healed, much to their surprise), and tested their speed in various conditions (they were both fast, but not abnormally so…yet).

This experiment had been harder to arrange, though. But the second they’d learned about the trip they’d both agreed that the time had finally come.

“Urgh, one down,” Jordan said, slamming the can on the table before giving himself a single checkmark under his name. Eager to catch up, Jon took in his last few gulps as well.

“Put me down for one.”

As previously agreed, they both stood up for a moment and took a short walk across the line of tape they’d lain across the kitchen tiles. Jon found that he could do it with ease and he could see that his brother was the same.

“Feeling anything?”

“Nope.”

“Time for number two?”

“Bring it on.”

And so the process continued—they’d open a can, drink it as quickly as they could manage, test their balance and then repeat. By beer number five, Jon was beginning to feel a strange twisting in the pit of his stomach, but he knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. This was the feeling he got every time one of their experiments started going this way.

He walked along the line, perfectly straight and feeling just as sober as he had an hour ago, then sat back down.

“Jor,” he began, letting out a small sigh, “I don’t think we can get drunk.”

Sure, it wasn’t the worst thing ever. People did lots of embarrassing things when they were drunk and things could even get dangerous. But it also felt like a rite of passage. It was something that people did. Were they really going to get through college without a single wild night? Always being the only sober guy at the party wasn’t the most appealing thought.

Across from him, Jordan finished downing his sixth beer and gave himself another checkmark. He looked similarly disheartened but opened the next can nevertheless.

“Maybe it just takes more,” he said with a hopeful shrug. But Jon shook his head skeptically. He wasn’t used to being the pessimistic one, but this seemed pretty clear.

“Remember how drunk Tessa Morgan was after three beers at Nick’s house?” he asked, recalling a night they had both attended. “And Sean passed out in the locker room after he and the guys snuck a few in there. I think he’d had about five. Maybe six.”

Jordan took yet another determined sip. “Yeah, well, Tessa and Sean aren’t half Kryptonian,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. “We are.”

Jon sighed again.

It was still weird to hear it, even after all this time. He had an easy enough time thinking about his dad that way. And even Jordan. But when it came to himself…

“You know what I don’t get?” he began as he took another pointless drink, “how can I have all of these weird quirks without any of the big benefits?”

His brother looked towards him as he continued.

“I mean, my blood looks weird as hell and I need to avoid regular medical care. And when we found that kryptonite I collapsed just as quickly as you did,” he shuddered at the memory. That had been a terrible experience and he hoped he’d never feel that way again. “The sun seems to heal me, which is good I guess. And I don’t get sick. But apparently alcohol has no effect on me, which kind of sucks. I’m clearly not—” he hesitated, unable to say that word that really came to mind, “normal,” he finished instead. 

Jordan nodded, agreeing with that assessment.

“And yet, I also have no signs of powers,” he pointed out with a baffled shrug, “what the hell is up with that? I honestly don’t care if I have them or not but I’d rather it be all or nothing. Having all of these oddities makes me worry that something is going to catch me off guard one day. Like, maybe I’ll be at practice and suddenly take off at superspeed. Or trip on something and start floating above the ground. The unknown element kinda blows.”

The other teen smiled sympathetically. “You’re preaching to the choir, bro,” he started before taking another swig. “I wish we had better answers but, the fact is, no one knows what is going to happen to either of us. Even Jor-El with his fancy technology already seems to be wrong. I keep getting stronger and there is nothing I can do to stop it.” he paused for a moment as he picked up one of the empty cans and crushed it into a tiny but perfectly smooth aluminum ball, “I held up the tractor yesterday while dad fixed it,” he noted with a hint of disbelief in his voice, “it felt like I was lifting an apple.”

Jon snorted, recalling the scene. It certainly did seem like his brother was progressing rather quickly. A year ago, he had seemed perfectly normal and now he was lifting heavy machinery as if it was nothing.

“My best guess is that this is all just a question of time,” the dark-haired twin continued, “we seemed like average kids and our human sides were dominant. But now that we’re getting older the kryptonian stuff is kicking in. I don’t think it is just going to stop activating. In fact, I think it is eventually going to take over.”

“Take over?” Jon asked, the uncomfortable churning still present inside. He didn’t quite know what Jordan meant but it was pretty clear that he’d put a lot of thought into it.

“Nothing is for sure,” he reiterated, “but we do know that kryptonian cells are way more resilient than human ones. They don’t get sick or age. They’re a source of strength.”

Jon nodded for him to continue.

“All living things are driven to survive and, if our bodies are smart, they are going to let the kryptonian DNA do what it needs to do to keep us strong and healthy. All bodies are programmed to survive, and, for us, that might mean some pretty big changes.”

As his brother finished outlining his theory Jon leaned back in his chair and let out a shaky breath. That was a lot to take in all at once and his mind was spinning with the implications of what Jordan had just said. 

He was feeling more abnormal by the second.

“So…in short, you think the kryptonian cells are basically going to act like parasites and take over our weaker human sides?” he pressed.

Jordan nodded, “yeah, basically,” he confirmed, “I didn’t tell you this, but I tested my blood again two months after we did it together and it looked even weirder than before,” he paused, a slight frown tugging at his lips, “I wanted to do it again the other day but, umm…” he hesitated, “apparently my skin is unpickable now. I couldn’t get a sample. It’s happening to me pretty quickly. Probably because my human side was a bit more messed up than yours to begin with. But it’s only a matter of time, Jon. The more you age the more your kryptonian genes are going to rush in and make repairs.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he said the only thing that came to mind.

“Fucking hell.”

There was no anger in his voice—more, surprise, and contemplation. This really was just a theory but it made a lot of sense. He had a sinking feeling that his brother was right.

“God, this is the most dismal drinking night ever,” he added, unable to dwell in the silence a moment longer. There was a lot to think about, and he didn’t want to do it all now.

“Yeah,” Jordan agreed, “and just think, a hundred years from now, we’ll probably still be sitting around looking twenty-something and pretending to get drunk.”

He groaned, “and now you’re making it even worse.”

“Kryptonians don’t age. Look at dad.”

His stomach churned again at the thought. “Yeah, I know,” he whispered softly, trying to push the thought from his mind as quickly as possible.

Jordan must have sensed that he had reached the limits of his discomfort because he abruptly jumped up and changed course. Jon was more than happy to drop the topic for now, though he knew how heavily it would loom over him in the days to come.

“Beer is clearly a fail,” Jordan noted with a bit too much zeal as he strode towards one of the cabinets, “shall we change it up a bit?” He really was a lot like their dad when he got into one of these enthusiastic moods, though Jordan would have been annoyed to hear it.

Choosing to keep that thought to himself, Jon watched as his brother pulled out a bottle of vodka and held it up with a grin.

“We’ve had eight beers each now and we feel nothing,” Jon pointed out level-headedly, “we’re just going to waste it and mom is going to notice.”

But Jordan was determined, “no way. We’ll refill what we drink with water. She’ll never know.”

Jon snorted, wondering if pulling the oldest trick in the book with an intrepid reporter was really going to work. He was glad for the distraction, though.

“Fine, take a drink then hand it over,” he said, conceding.

The other teen quickly uncapped it, knocked a sizable amount back with a grimace, then passed it across the table.

“That’s even worse than beer,” he noted, wiping his tongue on his sleeve as Jon took his turn. He was right, it was absolutely terrible and definitely didn’t seem worth it, especially since it was unlikely to have an effect.

“Oh no, Jon!” Jordan exclaimed, suddenly grasping the back of his chair. “The room is spinning, I canst speask wordz…”

For the briefest of seconds, Jon believed his brother’s inebriated act but he quickly realized that the other boy was just winding him up.

“Ha ha,” he said, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly as Jordan laughed. “You’re a terrible actor. You’ve clearly been taking lessons from dad.”

Jordan stuck out his tongue playfully. “Fine, smart guy, you give me an Oscar worthy performance then.”

Challenge accepted, Jon hopped up and looked around the kitchen for a bit of inspiration. His eyes fell on the line of tape they had put out and he stumbled towards it dramatically.

“Believe me, officer, I haven’t been drinking,” he said, inventing a scene in his head, “watch.” He purposefully stumbled on the line, doing his best to emulate what he’d seen on television. “Oh shit,” he made some pretty convincing gagging sounds, “I think I just barfed on your shoes.”

“Wow, compelling stuff,” Jordan said sarcastically, a smile on his face. “My turn again!” He declared, clearly enjoying the game. “Remember that time Julia Brown did a shot of whiskey then walked into a door frame?”

Jon definitely did—the girl had been furious about the perfectly straight bruise she’d had to sport in the middle of her forehead after that incident. It had been the talk of Smallville High.

Jordan did his best to recreate that rather unique stumble and Jon had to admit that he was a bit more convincing this time around. Maybe studying other people— _normal_ people—was the key.

“You probably should have said ouch when you walked into it, though,” he noted, giving some lighthearted constructive criticism. “Most people would feel the impact.”

“Right, of course,” Jordan nodded enthusiastically before trying the move again, this time with a dramatic “Ow! Fuck!”

As Jon applauded the performance his brother turned towards him with a wide grin and took a bow.

This may not have been the night they had been expecting, but they were doing things on their own terms.

“Your turn!”

Jon smiled.

With Jordan at his side, he knew that they would always find a way.


End file.
